


Spitfire

by Sashaya



Series: Age of Dragons [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Tamlen, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashaya/pseuds/Sashaya
Summary: She will not be the daughter her clan wanted, will not show the world mercy. She's a child in a body too old, in a place too cruel.She will grow up.





	Spitfire

**Author's Note:**

> **_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own any of the characters._
> 
> Un-beta'ed work.

She’s an elf brought up on stories of old glory and pride. She looks at the world she doesn’t know and passes judgment like she has the right.

She’s made of thorns and venom, she’s deceivably soft and hides knives in her falsely open hands. 

Zevran looks at her with something akin to understanding, something that she reads as _Don’t stop, the world is here to burn us_. She listens, smiles with more teeth and doesn’t hesitate to step on toes, backs, heads. 

She will not be the daughter her clan wanted, will not show the world mercy, wisdom of her people. She’s too young for that, too bitter and she sends quick prayers for forgiveness, something that calms her restless soul for a night, something that Ashalle passed with her motherly love. 

 

He’s a warrior, bastard child that knows the world and hated it before. He’s someone whose free will was bent and thrown away, someone who raised above his captors and who was freed at last.

She looks at him and sees he’s far beyond freedom, his mind is still caught by the subtle net of lies and laws that templars fed him for years. His mind still blanks, expecting lyrium to cloud his thoughts. 

Alistair is soft in a way only one can make yourself, he’s bright because he chose to be so. 

He’s nothing like Tamlen.

He’s merciful, where Tamlen was cruel. He’s cautions, where Tamlen was curious. 

He’s alive, where Tamlen is unknown, gone, lost, forgotten. 

 

She’s thankful for that.

 

Mahariel is sharp and she doesn’t hesitate to cut her companions, not in a vicious way but only because like a child she sometimes doesn’t understand. 

Morrigan threatens, laughs at anyone being able to hurt her. Zevran looks and knows and despite how he always is, he doesn’t answer. Leliana strikes back because she knows she can, because she’s not afraid to do so. 

Alistair listens and turns the conversation until he gets what’s wrong out of her.

Mahariel avoids him after, ashamed of weakness she showed and the weakness he’s become. 

She thinks of Tamlen and is afraid. 

 

Mahariel grows, settles in a role of a leader, role she was never to play. She doesn’t lose her bite, doesn’t lose the frankness of a child even if she can’t be called so anymore. 

Everyone is watching. 

Alistair always follows. 

She strikes at him more often, afraid so afraid of everything that will happen, that might become. 

Sometimes, he strikes back because he is soft but real, he’s not a dream from the Fade that will bribe you with silent agreement.

Sometimes, he screams at her. He raises his voice more in frustration and helplessness than in real anger. Sometimes, he lowers his voice to a mere whisper and tells her how afraid he is. 

Sometimes, between joking, bickering, planning, arguing he tells her how much he loves her and she doesn’t answer. 

 

She stops calling him shemlen.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting literary a year in my folder and I just want to get rid off of it. I'm no longer in DA fandom, so I won't try to rewrite or continue this, but I also have a soft enough spot for it, to decide to post. 
> 
> It was also my first playthru (not finished) of DAO, so it might seem very OOC.


End file.
